


Lost in Shadow and Silence

by IreneADonovan



Category: Daredevil (Comics), X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Alternate Universe - Still Have Powers, Blindness, Charles Kidnapped, Charles Xavier has a Ph.D in Adorable, Charles in a Wheelchair, DeafBlind!Charles, Disabled Character, Erik has Issues, Getting the Comfort Now, Hurt/Not Much Comfort Yet, Implied/Referenced Torture, Lots of CharlesAngst, M/M, Medical Experimentation, PTSD, Paralysis, Protective Erik, Suicidal Thoughts, deafness, protective Logan
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-16
Updated: 2018-06-08
Packaged: 2018-10-06 10:00:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 18,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10332113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IreneADonovan/pseuds/IreneADonovan
Summary: WARNING : DARK, DARK, DARK!TRIGGER WARNINGS FOR IMPLIED TORTURE, SUICIDAL THOUGHTS, AND PTSD!Erik leads a team of retrieval specialists, rescuing mutants from private and government labs. On one such mission, they discover Charles Xavier, brother of one of their compatriots, missing for nearly five years. He has been horribly abused, left locked inside his mind...Partially inspired by  Metallica's "One."





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I kind of hate myself for this one, but the idea simply would not go away.
> 
> Inspired by the song "One" by Metallica, the book that inspired the song (Johnny Got His Gun), the film version of the book, and another much older song, "Johnny, I Hardly Knew Ye."
> 
> I seem to be determined to go some very dark places writing-wise of late, and I needed another WIP like a hole in the head, so now I'm going back to my shiny, happy place to work on some romantic fluff...
> 
> BUT THIS STORY WILL BE CONTINUED! I took a couple of days, wrote a follow-up to "One Tuesday NIght," and have almost finished the next episode of Rush and Beer, so I'm refreshed and ready to plunge myself back into the angst and pain of this story...

“They're gone,” Logan said, “and it looks like they cleared out in a hurry.”

Erik swore. “They knew we were coming.”

“Looks that way.” Logan paused, sniffed the air, turned to stalk down the corridor. He unsheathed one set of claws as he approached an open door and peered cautiously around the jamb. “Fuck! Erik, get over here!”

Erik followed Logan into the room, which was empty save for a hospital-type bed. A dark-haired man, haunted and frail, lay on it, wide blue eyes staring into the distance, oblivious to their presence.

“Looks like the reports of experimentation were right,” Erik muttered, disgusted. He stepped forward, said, “Don't be afraid. We're here to help you.”

No response. Erik waved a hand in front of the man's face, snapped his fingers a couple of times. Nothing. Whatever they'd done to him had left him catatonic.

Or nearly so. As Erik lifted the emaciated man's limp body from the bed, he shook his head slightly and mouthed the word no, his features tensing in fear

Erik cradled the younger man close to his chest, pressed his cheek to the top of his head, felt him relax a notch.

“The rest of the team is waiting,” Logan said. “Let's go.”

Erik followed Logan through the installation's corridors back to the rendezvous point, where Raven, Storm, and Azazel were indeed waiting with two children, a boy and a girl, both no more than ten. Erik had to fight to choke down his anger then. Children.

Raven gasped as she caught sight of the man in Erik's arms. “Charles?”

So this fragile, broken man was Raven's brother, the one who'd disappeared from Columbia University nearly five years ago, the reason she'd sought out Erik's team in the first place.

“We can do reunions back at base,” Logan barked.

**  
~xXx~**

**  
**

In the end, it was only Beast's insistence on privacy during his examinations that pried Raven from her brother's side, and she seemed prepared to pace for the duration. And talk. Erik pretended to read a newspaper, trying to tune her out.

“Why didn't he recognize me? And why couldn't I hear him in my mind? What could they have done to him? I'm his sister, damnit. Why doesn't he know me?”

“I think I can answer that,” Hank said, emerging from the treatment room, “but you won't like the answer. They were using him for some kind of sensory deprivation experiment. They used implants, neural inhibitors, to suppress his telepathy, sight, and hearing, as well as to paralyze him from the shoulders down.”

“Can they be removed?” Raven demanded, her voice filled with equal parts horror and fury.

“I already did,” Hank said, “but I don't know how much good it'll do.”

“Explain.” Erik forced himself to calm, cold rage burning in his gut.

“Inhibitors of this type can burn out the nerves if left in place long-term, and there are indications that his may have been in place for years.”

“So my brother will always be like this?” Horror was beating our fury.

“Maybe,” Hank said. “The telepathy is a fairly global brain phenomenon – he's got a good chance of recovering that. The paralysis may also be reversible, at least partially. But the damage to his sight and hearing is almost certainly permanent.”

**  
~xXx~**

**  
**

Charles had all but forgotten what it was to exist outside of his own mind. He could see nothing, hear nothing, feel almost nothing, touch no other mind. He was weary and alone, and he had long since ceased praying for any release other than death.

When he'd been lifted from the bed, a stab of fear had shot through him; had his captors devised some new horror, dreamed up yet one more thing they could rob him of? Then he'd felt a cheek press against his forehead, a clear message of reassurance his captors would have never permitted.

He'd been taken somewhere warm, unlike the always-chilly lab, maybe by a teleporter – he couldn't figure out any other explanation for the brief sense of the world dissolving, the stink of sulfur, and most significantly, the speed of their arrival wherever they were.

He presumed he was on another bed, this time with a soft pillow supporting his head. Someone examined him, but with care, more an assessment, he supposed. The hands explored his eyes, his ears, his mouth, then the spots where the implants were installed. He felt small stings over the implants and spreading numbness in his face.

The numbness freaked him out and he tossed his head, trying to pull away. Arms wrapped around his shoulders, held him gently, and a hand stroked his face. He relaxed a little then, a little more when he realized the numbness had stopped spreading.

He felt pressure and tugging over the implant at his right temple. Could they actually be removing it? He opened his eyes wide, but no images appeared.

Temples. Ears. Base of the skull. Base of the neck. But his senses remained obstinately absent.

A final touch to his cheek, then he was alone again, though not for terribly long. He didn't think, anyway. His sense of time was so very skewed.

Yet another hand, smaller than the others, cupped his cheek and lingered. There was something almost-familiar about this touch, something that stirred long-buried memories. The bed dipped, arms circled his shoulders, and a cheek pressed to his, a cheek that felt different, almost, well, scaly.

Soft breath against his cheek, the brush of lips, words he couldn't hear. Dampness. His comforter's tears? Or his own? Could he even cry anymore?

After a while his comforter began tracing a pattern on his cheek, over and over, over and over. And eventually memory and comprehension dawned.

Letters. **_R_** \- **_A_** \- **_V_** \-- Raven. He mouthed the name, barely daring to hope, to believe.

**_Y_**. Yes. 

This time he knew the tears were his.

**  
~xXx~**

**  
**

Raven stayed with him for a long time, was still there when he realized something had changed. He could feel her now, her presence, her mind. He reached out cautiously. _Raven?_

He felt her startle. _Charles? Oh my g-d, Charles!_ A flood of emotions surged over him, followed by her thoughts. _Welcome back. I love you. I've missed you. We've been looking for you for so long. Never believed you were dead. Hank said your telepathy should recover first._

 _Slow down. Please_. Her thoughts battered at his fragile awareness. _I can't--_

She made an effort to still her mind. _Sorry._

_I love you, too. How long have I been gone?_

_Almost five years._

The words were like a punch to his gut. He knew it had been a long time, but five years seemed impossible. 

_I'm sorry. If I'd found you sooner, I could have spared you some of this._

_You're here now._

_I still wish I could have spared you this._ Raven touched his temple, then his ear.

_My telepathy is coming back. Maybe that will as well._

_Our doctor doesn't think so._

Fledgling hope crumbled to dust.

_He expects your telepathy to return in full, and that you should get at least some of your ability to move back, but he thinks the inhibitors have burned out your sight and hearing._

Charles couldn't breathe. It was too much, knowing that he was finally free but would remain a prisoner in this shell of a body. _Kill me. Please just kill me._

Charles felt his sister's horror, sensed when that horror was then tempered by understanding and grim resolve. _Wait a little longer,_ she thought. _Once we know how much returns, if you still want this, I will help you._ She pressed a kiss to his forehead. _I promise._


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik and Charles have their first conversation...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who encouraged me to continue this. I was a little nervous about how it would be received, and it is not an easy story for me to write, but write it I will...
> 
> A small detail of note: Since this is a total AU, Hank can switch between forms at will.

Erik plugged the flash drive into his laptop. Raven had downloaded everything she could find regarding the lab's operations, and normally she would have been the one to sift through the material, highlight the “scientific” research for Hank to analyze, the operational data for Erik himself to study.  


Raven had other, more pressing problems right now. Her brother, who had once been her rock, barely clung to life, had begged her to help him die.  


Erik had long since ceased being surprised by the casual cruelty of humans, but he would never cease to be sickened. That Raven's brother retained even a shred of his sanity after five years of deprivation and torture was a testament to the man's strength.  


Every time he shut his own eyes, Erik wondered if he himself could have borne the losses of sight, sound, touch, the loss of his powers. He reached out, lifted the pen from his desk, turned it over and over in midair, returned it to the desktop.  


He snapped his laptop shut. It was time he talked with Charles Xavier.  


Not that it was that easy. Hank was the first to block his path. “He's in no shape to be interrogated,” the blue-furred mutant said.  


“I don't want to interrogate him, just ask him a few questions, find out what he remembers,”  


Hank growled low in his throat. “Nothing. Not yet, anyway.”  


“This guy could be the key to shutting these guys down for good. They can't be allowed to get away with this anymore.”  


Hank's golden eyes flashed fire. “You think I don't know that? Logan's not the only one who's spent time as a 'guest' of the military-industrial complex.”  


“I know,” Erik said softly. Hank had been one of Erik's first rescues after Logan, a scrawny adolescent he'd found locked in a cage that didn't even allow him to stand up straight. Now, ten years later, Hank held both a PhD in biomedical engineering and an MD specializing in emergency medicine and was one of the key members of Erik's team, and not just for his brains. He was a fearsome warrior as well.  


“You can have a few minutes with him,” Hank decided, “but only to introduce yourself. He's far too fragile for anything more.”  


“Okay.” Erik stepped past Hank into Charles' room.  


Raven sat in a chair beside her brother's bedside, one hand resting on his shoulder. She glanced up at Erik, lifted her hand away from her brother. “Get the fuck out of here.” Her words were quiet, but with a core of steel. “I mean it, Erik. My brother isn't some _asset_ for you to exploit.”  


“I'm not here to interrogate him.”  


“Really.”  


“Hank made me promise not to,” he admitted.  


Her expression softened just a little. “And for all your faults, you're a man of your word.”  


Erik nodded. He was.  


“Give us a moment, then.” Her hand returned to Charles' shoulder, her eyes taking on a faraway look for a minute before she returned her attention to Erik. “Pull up that other chair,” she said. “His telepathy is still really weak, so you'll need to put your hand on his shoulder. Physical contact makes it easier. I'm going to go grab a sandwich while you two talk.”  


Erik used his power to drag the other chair over, took a seat, then awkwardly set his hand near the juncture of Charles' neck and shoulder.  


_Hello._ The voice in Erik's head was a warm baritone with an improbable English accent. _Raven said your name is Erik._  


_It is._  


_And you're the one who found me._  


_My team and I, yes._  


Charles' blind eyes shone with tears. _Thank you. I was sure I would die in that place. Now, even if I die, I'll die a free man._  


_It's what I do._  


_Even so._  


Erik squeezed the younger man's shoulder. _You're welcome._  


_I don't know how long my sister will be gone. Will you stay until she returns? I've really come to hate being alone._

Put like that, how could he refuse. _Of course._  


_Would you mind telling me how you met Raven, then?_  


Erik let his mind drift backwards...  


  
**~xXx~**  


**Four-and-a-half years earlier**  


Azazel popped into Erik's office and into his personal space, standing just inches from him. Erik glared. Azazel grinned – a terrifying sight to those who didn't know him, a worrisome one to those who did. If Azazel was grinning, some bad shit was about to happen.  


“Девушка (dyevushka) asking questions downstairs. Rich bitch. You want me to scare her off? Or send Logan?”  


"I'll handle it.” Logan would either fuck her or gut her, both of which had nightmarish implications. A thousand-year-old demon scaring her off wasn't much better. This called for tact and subtlety. Unfortunately, Erik was all they had.  


He jogged down the stairs to Lehnsherr Security's front office. To all outward appearances, this was an elite private-security firm, and it was that legitimate business that allowed him to fund his true purpose – rescuing mutants abducted for experimentation.  


Logan had been the first, memory wiped, reduced to little more than a weapon. Even now, five years later, the man was barely civilized, all too willing to surrender to his animalistic side.  


He'd met Azazel through an army buddy, had been surprised when the demon had offered his services. He still wasn't sure why, and Az had never explained. But he was damned handy in a fight or for a fast getaway.  


Erik stepped out of the stairwell to see a pretty blonde who couldn't be out of her teens. Every detail of her appearance screamed of money and privilege, from her carefully-coiffed hair to her knee-high suede boots. She fixed wide brown eyes on him. “Mr. Lehnsherr?”  


He said nothing.  


“I need your help, Mr. Lehnsherr. My brother is missing.”  


“This is a security firm, not a detective agency.”  


“I've tried the police. I've tried private detectives. My brother disappeared under suspicious circumstances, and no one seems to care because he's a telepath.”  


That got his attention, but he schooled his features to impassivity. He'd take the job, but he'd let her stew a bit longer. A girl so rich and privileged needed a lesson in how the world really worked.  


“Please. Just hear me out. You're my last hope.”  


Erik nodded fractionally. “Come up to my office. We'll talk. No promises.”  


  
**~xXx~**  


As Erik's memory drew to a close, Charles smiled. _How much longer did it take you to figure out Raven wasn't what she appeared to be?_

_Not even five minutes. As soon as we got up to my office, she transformed into her true self._  


_I'd like to see that._  


Erik hesitated. _Maybe tomorrow. You should rest._  


Anger flared white-hot in Charles. _Rest? I've done nothing but 'rest' for longer than I can count. I want to go outside. I want to feel the sun on my face. I want to figure out if there's anything left to my life that makes it worth living._  


Erik withstood his mental barrage, barely even flinched. _Okay. You're right._  


Words deserted Charles.  


_I'll take you outside tomorrow. But you're going to have to help me convince your sister and Dr. McCoy._  


For the first time in years, Charles felt a flicker of hope. _I will._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Девушка = young woman, in Russian


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik and Raven take Charles outside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters this week. This fic is threatening to take over my life. It's going to be a long monster of a thing. It's got four major plotlines, two of which haven't even been introduced yet, and at least two significant subplots so far...

_Charles? How are you feeling this morning?_ Dr. McCoy's hand rested on his shoulder, the touch gentle but impersonal.  


Morning, finally. He still had no reliable way to gauge the passage of time. _All right, I suppose._ Frustrated. Scared. Lost.  


_Any improvements in your telepathy? Se if you can tell me what I'm thinking._ McCoy's hand withdrew.  


_You're wondering if anyone's going to remember it's your birthday tomorrow._  


_Excellent. Your range is improving. Have you noticed any improvement in sensation?_ He drew a finger along Charles' shoulder.  


Charles concentrated. _My upper arms are tingling._ They felt very much like they'd been asleep and were just starting to waken.  


_Good. Your nerves are beginning to recover. The shortest pathways will be the quickest to return._  


Just not all of them. _Is there truly no chance my hearing or my vision will recover?_  


_Not no chance,_ McCoy conceded, _but the chance is vanishingly slim. You said they were the first to be blocked?_  


Charles shook his head. _My telepathy was first._  


_Still, it's been years._ He could sense McCoy's frustration and regret, as well as a barely-leashed rage at the people who had done this. _You shouldn't get your hopes up._  


He had no hopes, not anymore, just bare existence. _Erik said he'd take me outside today, if you okayed it._  


If McCoy was surprised by the abrupt segue, he hid it well. _I'm not sure that's a good idea._  


_Please, doctor. I haven't been outside since I was taken. I just want to feel the sun on my face._ Charles was practically begging.  


_All right. For a few minutes. But if it gets to be too much, make sure he brings you back immediately._  


**~xXx~**  


While Hank examined Charles, Erik approached Raven, who'd taken refuge in the kitchen. “How you holding up?”  


She shrugged. “All this time I've clung to the idea of getting him back. Now I don't know if I ever will.”  


Erik sighed. He sucked at the comforting thing, but he tried anyway. “He's still in there. Whatever makes him him is still there.”  


She shook her head, her hands worrying at her coffee cup. “You didn't know him before. He was confident, sure of himself and who he was, almost arrogant. Now he's just broken.”  


“Don't be so sure.”  


Raven arched a quizzical eyebrow.  


“He knew enough about what he needs to yell at me.”  


“He yelled. At you.”  


Erik permitted himself a wry smile. “I deserved it. I was pretty damned patronizing. Told him he needed to rest rather than talk.”  


“And he told you to stick it.”  


“More or less. Said he'd rested enough the last five years, that all he wanted was to feel the sun on his face again and figure out if life was still worth living.”  


Hope and tears sparkled in her eyes, but there was a flinty edge of resolve in her voice. “Then we'll just have to take him outside. Today.”  


**~xXx~**  


Charles was beginning to wonder where Raven had disappeared to for so long. Not that he minded talking with Dr. McCoy. Hank was catching him up on some of the more recent discoveries in epigenetics. But Raven was the sole constant from his old life to his new one. That wasn't fair to her, he knew, to cling to her so tightly, but he wasn't capable of fair right now.  


Hank broke off from his description of his own research into how epigenetic switches affected the X-gene. _Raven's back. And Erik. I think they're ready to take you outside._  


Hank's presence at his side was replaced by Raven's. She touched his face, feather-light. _We got you a wheelchair, so we can take you outside._  


Erik's hand on his shoulder, his touch firm but gentle, announcing his presence. _Ready?_  


Terrified, now that the moment was actually here. _As ready as I can be._  


Erik lifted him, cradled his head against a muscular shoulder, carried him a short distance, set him down again with exquisite care.  


And then they were off. The unaccustomed movement left him almost dizzy, and it felt like they travelled forever. Whatever this place was, it must be truly cavernous.  


Then he felt it, warmth on the left side of his face. He turned his head toward it, knowing he was grinning like a fool. Sunlight. Honest-to-goodness sunlight.  


They continued on for a bit over an uneven surface, maybe grass? He could definitely smell fresh-cut grass.  


Then they paused, and Erik touched his shoulder. _We're going to get you set up under a tree. Raven's got a blanket._ He picked Charles up again and lowered him to the ground, leaning him up against the tree, the bark rough against the back of his head. _How's that?_  


_Marvellous._ He could still feel the sun on his cheeks and throat, the air warm and humid in his nostrils but not yet summery.  


Raven rested her head against his shoulder. _We brought a few of your favorites, call it a picnic, a little celebration of your return home._  


Food. Real food. It had been so long since he'd tasted anything other than the tasteless mush his captors had fed him. Even this morning's scrambled eggs had been ambrosial. He couldn't begin to imagine what Raven had planned.  


She pressed something to his lips, and he parted them, letting her place it on his tongue. Chocolate. Dark chocolate. Really good dark chocolate, rich and creamy, bitter and sweet. He groaned in pleasure, the sound he couldn't hear echoing in his throat.  


He froze. _No. No. I didn't mean to._  


Confusion streamed off Raven. _Charles?_  


_I think he's having a flashback._ Erik pressed his hand to Charles' cheek. _Charles. Charles. You're safe. They don't have you anymore._  


The words came from so far away, on the other side of a wall of pain and fear, but the steady calm of Erik's mind cut its way through, bled away his panic.  


_Talk to us, Charles. What happened?_  


Charles inhaled, exhaled, tried to still his mind enough to explain. _They hurt me, every time I made a sound._  


_Bastards!_ Raven's hands on his shoulders, her tears as well.  


_I'm sorry. I ruined this. You both tried so hard to help me,and I ruined it._  


Erik's thumb traced along Charles' jaw. _You have nothing to apologize for. And nothing is ruined. We can go forward from here._  


Something velvet-soft brushed along Charles' cheek, and he caught the perfumed sweetness of a rose.  


Charles turned his nose toward the scent.  


_Do you remember when Sharon tried to rip out the rose hedge?_ Raven asked.  


_Yes. She thought it looked too old-fashioned, but you loved it so. That was when I learned I could make someone change their mind._ Charles smiled at the memory. _Have you been up to the house? Do you know if the hedge is still there?_  


_Charles, this rose is from that hedge._  


_We're in Westchester?_ Charles hadn't expected that.  


_We're sitting under the tree your grandfather planted._ Raven pressed a glass to his lips. _Welcome home, big brother._  


He took a sip. Champagne. A really splendid vintage. He sipped more. _You were always in such a hurry to leave this place. Why did you come back?_  


_Because it reminds me of you._  


Erik's fingers, broad and masculine, yet possessed of a certain elegance, held something to his lips. A raspberry, fat and sweet and juicy.  


_More._  


_Of what?_ Erik asked.  


_Of everything._  


Erik offered him another berry. _Do you mind that we're using your home?_  


_Why would I mind? You freed me. You gave my sister a purpose. I can never repay that._  


_You owe us nothing,_ Erik insisted. _What we do, we do for all mutants._  


Raven gave him another sip of champagne.  


_I do hope you'll let me meet the rest of your team. I'd really like to thank them properly._ He sensed unease from both Erik and Raven.  


_Of course,_ Erik sent to Charles, while thinking his meeting Azazel and Logan might be a bad idea.  


_I saw Azazel in your memory. A demon, isn't he? But you were more afraid of what Logan would do._  


_Erik rescued Logan like he rescued you. They took his memory, made him into a weapon, turned him feral. Even after ten years, he's still pretty uncivilized._ Raven projected the image of a fearsomely muscular man with dark hair and wild eyes. And metal claws.  


_No. I don't suppose meeting him would be a good idea._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up, Charles meets Logan...


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charles meets Logan...

Erik thrilled to Charles as he was that lazy late-spring morning. Relaxed. Content. Almost happy, even. Delighting in each new thing they offered him. His smile lit his face, softening the gaunt lines, offering a glimpse of the man he had been, the man he might become again.  


But there was also the Charles that had emerged when he'd made the sound in his throat. Cowering. Terrified. As damaged as a few of the soldiers Erik had served with.  


Erik wanted someone to pay for that damage. No matter what it took, he would find the men responsible for breaking Charles' spirit, for breaking Charles' body.  


But he would need Raven for that, once her brother's recovery was more certain. She had turned herself into quite the hacker, able to tease information from a database like a bee teasing nectar from a flower. Somewhere there was a trail, or the ghost of one, and Raven would find it.  


And then maybe they could finally put these bastards out of business for good.  


**~xXx~**  


Erik sat with Charles as often as he could over the next few days, spelling Raven, who only left his side to eat or sleep. His team was stretched thin, half of them gone on reconnaissance missions in California and Texas, and he needed her, but Charles needed her more.  


He had noted a subtle change in Charles since that morning outing, however. A little more confident, a little less lost. But he still had a long way to go, both in body and spirit.  


Hank had been blunt about that. Charles would need months of physical therapy if he was to regain any real use of his body, as well as training to learn how to function without sight or hearing. And most importantly, he needed time and support to accept what had been done to him.

Hank would figure something out, though. He always did.  


Raven was in her customary seat when Erik arrived. She was half-dozing, her head tilted to the side, her hand holding Charles'. Charles, on the other hand, was fully asleep.  


“Raven.” He called her name softly, instinct telling him not to wake Charles, though intellectually he knew Charles couldn't hear him.  


Her eyes blinked open and she lifted her head.  


“Go get some sleep,” he ordered. “You're no good to anyone when you're exhausted.”  


For once she didn't argue, proof of just how tired she was. She squeezed her brother's hand, lifted it for a moment. “He's getting some feeling back in his hands, enough to feel pressure.”  


“Good.” He paused, knowing what he had to say next would not be well-received, “I'm going to need you for a few hours tomorrow. Storm's found a safe place for those two kids, and I need your help for the transfer.”  


“Can't Hank--”  


“I need Hank here.” He glanced at Charles. “I know you're his sister, but Hank's the MD. If anything goes wrong--”  


“Fine.” Raven rose, stretched, stalked off.  


Erik slid into his usual seat, took Charles' hand, and waited.  


Maybe an hour later, Charles stirred. His blue eyes opened wide for a moment, searching, then a faint tremor of his lip as memory and awareness seeped in. His mind brushed Erik's.

_Good evening,Charles._  


_Erik._  


_I sent Raven to get some sleep._  


Charles bit at his lower lip. _I hate that she's stretching herself so thin for me._  


_She's your sister. She's worried._  


_I can feel her sadness every time she looks at me. Have I really changed that much?_ A silent, bitter laugh. _Of course I have._  


_Outwardly, maybe. Inwardly, I think you're still the good older brother you always were._  


_Thank you for that, but it's not true. I was never what Raven needed. And now all I am is a burden._  


_So fight this. Take back your life. Prove to yourself – and to Raven – that you're more than just your senses, that just because your body's damaged, it doesn't mean that you are._  


Erik had thrown down the gauntlet. Only time would tell if Charles would pick it up.  


**~xXx~**  


When Charles awoke the next morning, Raven was back at his side. _I brought you breakfast. Storm made pancakes._ She held a forkful to his lips.  


He chewed, savoring the tastes of butter and syrup.  


_Erik and Storm and I will be gone for a while today._ Raven fed him another mouthful. _But Hank will be here if you need him._  


_I'll be fine._ Erik was right – he had to start making his peace with what had been done to him and find a way to move forward. And that included not clinging so hard to Raven.  


_You're sure?_  


_No. But I can't keep you chained to my side 24/7._ He offered her a brittle smile.  


She finished feeding him, brushed a kiss across his forehead, and then she was gone.  


Charles concentrated on moving his fingers. They were still half-numb, the muscles so atrophied he could barely make them twitch, but it was a place to start.  


He was still at it when he sensed a presence in the room. _Hank?_  


He felt the other person flinch at the touch of his mind. _Get out of my head._  


_I'm sorry. This is the only way I can talk to you._  


The man seemed startled. _I still don't like it._  


_Well, unless you can bring back my sight or my hearing, this is all I've got. I'm Charles, by the way._  


_Logan_.  


So this was the man everyone was so wary of.  


_They did this to you?_  


Charles could feel the anger that simmered just below the surface of the other man's mind. But there was something more below that, pain and loss so profound Charles couldn't plumb its depths.  


They had left Charles with nothing but his mind, his thoughts, his very essence. The exact things that had been stolen from Logan. They had reduced him to instinct and rage, stripped away his memory and his humanity, rendered him a weapon to be hated and feared. Yet just enough of his humanity remained to make him acutely aware of what he had lost, to make him yearn for the man he had been.  


He and Logan were truly two sides of one coin. Before he could think better of the offer, he said, _Have a seat. I might be able to help you find some of what you've lost._  


He felt the other man's wariness, the hope that flickered and flared beneath it. _How?_  


_I can search through your mind, if you'll let me. If there are any memories locked away, I may be able to retrieve them._  


_Do it._ No hesitation, no fear.  


_Put your hand on my shoulder._  


The man's hand was huge, and Charles could feel the leashed strength in his grip.  


_I'm coming in now. Don't fight me – I won't hurt you._ Charles eased his way into Logan's mind, past the anger and the pain and the raw animal instinct, searching for his memory centers. Many were simply empty, wiped clean, but Charles was able to find a few fragments of sense-memory.  


A boy with clawlike nails, dressed in clothing from another era. The bitter cold of a Canadian winter. The sounds of gunfire and the chaos of combat, different wars, different uniforms, but the same echoes. The acrid stench of fear. The tastes of good scotch and bad beer and sake in a bamboo cup. A raspy voice calling for Jimmy. Water and needles and pain. Being locked in a cage. Then Erik and freedom.  


Charles withdrew with a sigh. _I'm sorry. That's all there is._  


Logan remained quiet for a minute before saying, _It's more than I had._ He squeezed Charles' shoulder gently. _Thanks, Chuck._  


_My pleasure._ And it had been, Charles realized. It had felt damned good to offer help instead of requiring it.  


They sat together in silence for a long while before Logan sent a thought his way. _If there's anything I can do for you--_  


Charles' instinct was to brush the offer aside, but he sensed Logan would be offended, no, make that pissed. _How are you at reading?_  


_Not my favorite thing._  


_Never mind, then._  


_I'll bring a book next time. Anything else?_ Logan's manner was brusque, almost rude, but Charles sensed the man wasn't as feral as everyone thought.  


Charles hesitated. _Could you, could you tell me how bad I look? I asked Raven, but I know she was lying._  


_Not so good, Chuck. You-- I don't know how to--_ Logan paused. _You looked in my mind. Could you look through my eyes?_  


_Maybe._ Charles considered. _Let me try._  


He slipped back into Logan's mind, found his visual cortex, was assaulted by intense, unaccustomed brightness. He pulled back, wincing.  


_Chuck? You all right?_  


_Yes. It was just a little much. You okay for me to try it again?_  


_Go for it._  


Charles dipped back in, found the connection, let the visual data seep into his brain. It was strange looking at himself through another's eyes, likely would have been so even if his appearance hadn't changed so drastically. His hair, though clean now, was lank and lifeless; his skin, almost translucent and stretched over his bones. He judged he'd lost at least thirty pounds, though the beard disguised much of the gauntness in his face. But worst were those damnable sightless eyes, so blank and so empty.  


He broke the connection to Logan's eyes abruptly, feeling Logan's wince a microsecond before he pulled away. _Thank you,_ he projected just before withdrawing fully from Logan's mind. _But I'm tired. I think I'd like to sleep for a while._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up: Everyone freaks because Charles met Logan...


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik and Raven talk. Erik takes Charles outside. Charles looks through Erik's eyes. Raven finds Logan outside Charles' room and confronts him.

Taking the kids to their new home went smoothly. Storm had built quite a network of people who were willing to take in the abused and the abandoned, whether it be for a few days or weeks, or in the case of this empty-nester couple, the years it would take to raise these children.

Still, Erik could feel the rage building inside him, the outright fury that someone had taken these children, had intended to make them lab rats, all because of a perceived flaw in their DNA. He thought about the other mutants he'd rescued, not enough, never enough. Several dozen children, almost as many adults. Most had gone on to build new lives. A few had remained with him. Hank, brilliant and sensitive, who'd flourished once granted his freedom. Logan, who still battled his demons. Alex, who hid behind a mask of bravado. Emma, icy-cool and remote.

And now Charles. Fragile and beautiful, yet possessed of an inner strength that no one else seemed to see, not even Charles himself.

As they returned to the mansion, Erik expected Raven to beeline to her brother's side, was surprised when she hung back to talk to him. Nor did he expect her words. “You were right.”

“What am I taking credit for?”

“For putting me back to work. Much as I might want to, I can't chain myself to his side.”

“No. You can't. Even if you could, you shouldn't.”

“He's just so lost, so scared. I hate seeing him like that.”

“He's your brother. It's natural to want to protect him, especially now.” Erik locked eyes with her. “But you need to step back, just a little. Give him enough space to reclaim what he can, to make his peace with what he can't.”

Raven sighed. “I'll try.”

Erik nodded. “That flash drive is still on my desk – why don't you take a look at it, and I'll look in on Charles.”

Raven eyed him suspiciously for a long moment. “When did you start being nice? You've always been such an asshole.”

Erik met her gaze, saying nothing, thinking, _Since I walked into that room and saw those haunted blue eyes._

**~xXx~**

When Charles awoke, Logan was gone, but Charles felt Hank's presence a couple of rooms away, buried in a medical journal. He startled at the touch of Charles' mind, felt a stab of guilt that he'd forgotten to check on Charles. _Is everything all right?_

_I'm fine, Hank. I slept for a while, not sure how long. Do you know if Raven and Erik are back yet?_

_I don't know, but I'll check._

_Thank you._ Charles withdrew from the young doctor's mind, trying to quell the unease rising inside him. Being alone no longer instilled immediate panic, especially when his mind could reach another's, but the memory of unending solitude, of his only contact being the cold, callous hands that fed him, cleaned him, that memory remained fresh and raw, sent tendrils of fear curling through his awareness when he didn't actively block it.

He turned his mind inward, seeking the elusive serene space that had sustained him through some of the darkest times, but today it refused to be found. The fear was growing bolder, slicing his psyche into razor-edged shards. He drew a deep breath, then another, seeking to keep full-blown panic at bay, a battle he was losing.

A hand touched his shoulder, and he flinched away.

 _Charles?_ Erik projected.

That well-ordered but prickly mind calmed him instantly. _Erik._

_Everything went well. Raven will be by in a bit._

_Will you stay with me?_ Charles hoped he didn't sound as desperate as he felt.

_That's why I'm here. Actually, I thought maybe I could even take you outside. I stopped in the kitchen, got us a little food._

The simple act of kindness brought tears to Charles' eyes. _Please._

Erik lifted him, cradled him against his warm, solid chest, and carried him to the wheelchair. The trip outside was less dizzying this time, though they seemed to go further once they were outside. He could smell the heavy perfume of roses, so he knew they were in the back gardens, near Raven's beloved rose hedge.

He let his mind drift on the current of memory, recalling the vivid pink blooms, the deep green leaves, the buzz of insects on a lazy summer's day. All lost to him now, save in his memory.

_Penny for your thoughts._

_Just memories._ He shared them with Erik.

_You'll make new ones, just as sweet._

_You are such an optimist, my friend._

Erik laughed. _Most people would call me a cynical realist._ He picked Charles up and settled him against a tree; this time he could feel the hard curve of the trunk along much of his back. Sensation faded somewhere just past his waist, but it was a substantial improvement.

Erik sat beside him, his arm brushing lightly against Charles' as he moved. _I brought cheese and crackers and fruit and a bottle of wine._ After a minute, he held a chunk of cheese to Charles' lips.

Cheddar, well-aged. Erik followed it with some gooey brie on a cracker, then touched a piece of fruit to Charles' mouth. Charles inhaled the sweet, slightly floral scent of a ripe peach. _Could you put that in my hand? I want to see if I can--_

Erik folded his fingers around the peach half, and slowly, his muscles trembling with the effort, Charles raised it to his face and took a bite. He let his arm drop to his chest as he chewed, grinning triumphantly. He was feeding himself, for the first time in years.

By the time he finished the peach half, his muscles were burning, his breathing slightly labored, but it was a start.

 _This calls for celebration._ Erik wrapped Charles hand around a glass, held it there, then Charles felt the clink of glass against glass. _To taking your life back._

 _Chin-chin._ _But I don't think I can lift this glass right now._

 _I know._ Erik lifted his hand and the glass to Charles' lips and held it steady while he drank. A Chardonnay, he thought, decent but not spectacular, but it was still heaven in a glass as he basked in the satisfaction of his first tiny step toward independence.

With Erik's help, he finished the glass, then he let his head fall back against the tree-trunk, angling his face toward the sun. _Thank you,_ he thought, _but would you mind doing me a favor?_

_Try me._

_Would you let me look through your eyes for a minute?_

_I didn't know you could do that._

_It was Logan's idea, but I probably should have thought of it._

_Logan?_ He could sense Erik stiffening. _You met Logan?_

_He came by while you were gone. He's not nearly as feral as you made him sound._

But Erik remained tense, the outer layers of his mind spiky and sharp. _I'd still better talk to him._

_Not on my account._

Erik fell silent for a minute, then asked, _So how do we do this?_

 _Just relax and look at the rosebushes. I'll do the rest._ He eased into Erik's mind, located the visual cortex, looked out through Erik's eyes.

The sky was a brilliant blue, streaked with wispy clouds. The tulip and iris beds were ablaze with color, and the rose hedge positively dripped with hot-pink blooms. The mansion looked much as he remembered, and while the grounds seemed well-maintained, they were not at the level that his keeping-up-appearances mother had demanded. He drank in the sights greedily, grew weary all too quickly.

He withdrew slowly, reluctantly, returning to the empty silence that now defined his world. _Thank you, Erik._

_Any time._

_I'm not strong enough yet to do it for long. It's much harder than just talking to someone._

_The offer still stands._ Erik took his hand and squeezed it.

Charles smiled and squeezed back.

**~xXx~**

Logan was standing outside Charles' door when Raven entered the corridor. “What the hell are you doing here?” she demanded.

Logan regarded her much like a bug he was contemplating swatting. “I came to see Chuck.”

Chuck? No one _ever_ called her brother Chuck. “Then why are you lurking in the hall?”

“He's not here.”

Raven rushed past him into Charles' room. The bed sat empty, as did the chair beside it. No Charles. No Erik. Her heart racing, she glanced about the room, seeing no signs of a struggle. And the wheelchair was gone. Maybe Erik had just taken him outside again.

She went to the window, looked out at the back gardens, saw Erik as he was lifting Charles back into the wheelchair. They were out near the rose hedge, and it looked like Erik had brought a bottle of wine.

A smile came, unbidden, to her lips. Erik came off as prickly and standoffish at best, angry and hostile most often, and a thorough bastard at worst, but she had always known there was a good heart camouflaged by all that rage. He was unfailingly kind to the people they rescued, had given a home to those who would not easily find a place elsewhere, and now he was going out of his way to tend to her brother.

Not that she'd ever let on to Erik that she'd figured him out.

Logan had come up beside her, stealthy as he always was. She still hadn't figured out why he was really here. She wasn't about to trust him around Charles. “What do you want with my brother?” she snapped. “You've never shown any interest in anyone else we've rescued.”

“Your brother's not like the others,” Logan answered, his voice quiet but gruff.

She couldn't really dispute that.

“I'm maybe the only one here who knows what he's been through. They held me seven years." He shrugged. "Besides,  I promised I'd read to him.”

Raven goggled, turned to face him. “Read to hin?” But sure enough, he held a paperback in one giant hand.

Logan nodded. "He asked me to."

Raven shook her head, threw up her hands, and turned to leave. Hell must have frozen over, and she'd missed the memo.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan reads to Charles. Alex and Emma return. A lot of conversations...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who's been taking this story journey with me. Over a hundred kudos already, and so many wonderful comments! Please keep them coming. The feedback really does make it easier.

It was with some regret that Erik lifted Charles from his seat against the tree. The afternoon had been a quiet interlude, but he had the sense a storm was brewing just over the horizon. Alex and Emma should be back from California by nightfall, and Janos and Darwin were en route from Texas. Neither pair had found any more mutants, but both had information that should help unravel the puzzle of who was behind the experiments. A puzzle he sensed Charles Xavier remained the key to.

He set Charles gently in the wheelchair, arranged his legs on the rests, brushed a stray lock of hair from Charles' face.

Charles smiled, leaned into his touch. _Thank you, my friend._

_It's nothing._

_It's anything but._

Erik remained silent, began to push Charles back toward the mansion. 

_It's not nothing,_ Charles insisted. _Everyone has been nothing short of wonderful, even Logan. I know caring for me can't be easy, yet no one is complaining, not even in their thoughts. You've assembled some good people around you, Erik._

_You haven't met everyone yet,_ Erik answered with a wry smile, thinking of Azazel. 

_Well, he is a demon, even if he works for the good guys._

**~xXx~**

Charles was sorry the afternoon had to end, yet he knew he couldn't monopolize Erik's time, no matter how much he enjoyed the man's company. The man did have a business to run, after all, even if he had a team in place to handle the day-to-day and allow him the freedom to pursue men like the ones who had imprisoned Charles. 

The hunger for justice dominated Erik's thoughts, drove him relentlessly. He had little patience even for those close to him, far less for those who stood in his way, yet Charles could feel the inherent kindness kept hidden by his prickly façade. He also sensed a deeper sorrow spurring Erik on, a reason never spoken, never shared, that helped fuel his relentless drive for justice. Charles could sense its existence bleeding onto the surface of Erik's mind. Charles could have probed deeper, uncovered the hidden motive, but he would not.

The sun on his face faded, then he felt the small bump that signaled crossing the threshold and returning indoors. He tracked the twists and turns, straining to piece together a map that would meld memory with his radically altered awareness. He was semi-successful, able to track their progress well enough to not be surprised when he felt Logan's mind nearby, waiting impatiently. 

He was struck anew by the depth of loss in even the man's surface thoughts. The man's very essence had been stripped from him. And yet, despite his captors attempts to turn him into a soulless weapon, his humanity survived, tattered and torn though it might be. _Logan,_ Charles greeted.

He could feel the other man wince. _I still don't like that._

_I know. Sorry. We're almost back to my room._

He could feel Erik's tension, his desire to trust Logan, the first of his charges, his worry that he couldn't. Charles let his head tilt backwards until it just was able to brush Erik's stomach. _You really can trust him. He's a good man, just damaged._

_Like me,_ he thought gloomily.

Erik squeezed his shoulder in reassurance. _But you're mending. And we're here. Do you want back in bed, or do you want to sit up a bit longer?_

_Bed, I think. I loved being out, but I'm tired._

Erik lifted him, placed him on the bed, carefully arranging his limbs, propping his head and shoulders with pillows. He touched Charles' cheek, asked, _How's that?_

_Good. I'll be good. Tell Raven to come by after a while._

_She's not too happy with me right now,_ Logan thought.

_Why not?_

_I'm here with you. Your sister has a protective streak a mile wide._

_She did just get him back,_ Erik observed. He squeezed Charles' shoulder. _I'll let her know._

_Talk to you later, my friend._ Charles turned his attention back to Logan. _Did you bring something to read?_

_It wasn't easy. Azazel's books are all in Russian, Janos' are all in Spanish, and most of Erik's are in German or Polish or French. He did have one novel in English, though._

_There's a whole library on the second floor._

This news seemed to surprise Logan. _I'll look for it._

_So what did you find?_

_ The Once and Future King. _

Charles beamed. _That's one of my favorites._

_Cool,_ Logan thought as he settled on a chair and opened the book. _“On Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays...”_

**~xXx~**

After Erik left Charles' room, he stopped in to see Hank, who had his head buried in a medical journal. He glanced up at the sound of Erik's footsteps. 

“Have you made any progress with therapy for Charles?” Erik asked. 

Hank frowned, just a little. “I'm thinking I'll have to do it myself. Having strangers around here just isn't an option.”

Now Erik understood the frown. Hank hated anything that pulled him away from his beloved research. But maybe they could share the burden. “Could you teach me to do some of it? Or Raven?”

Hank brightened. “Of course. That would work. At this point what he needs most is massage and stretching and some gentle exercise.”

“I can do that. So can Raven. Could you start teaching us tomorrow?”

“Sure,” Hank said, then he frowned again. “But that still leaves the question of teaching him to function without his sight and hearing. I think it would really be better if he could learn that from someone who wasn't just reading stuff out of a book.”

An idea hit Erik, one he probably should have had sooner. “Matt,” he said. 

“Matt?” Hank didn't follow; a confused Hank was a rare sight.

“Matt Murdock. My lawyer. He's blind. And a mutant.” Of sorts, anyway.

Hank smiled. “That takes care of half the problem.”

“We'll keep working on the second half,” Erik said. “We'll find an answer.” He wished he was half as confident as his words. 

**~xXx~**

Logan was still reading to Charles when Raven returned. Evidently the man found it easier to read the story aloud even though Charles couldn't actually hear him.

She hung back a little, listening. The man had a pleasant voice when he wasn't snarling and threatening to kill people. He was even attempting different character voices. She could do better, but she could actually morph her vocal cords. 

She smiled, though still a bit grudgingly, as she recognized the story. One of Charles' favorites, and hers. Charles had read it to her a number of times.

_I know you're there, Raven. You might as well come in. Logan won't bite._

Raven wasn't so sure. She'd seen him in action, and there was something terrifying about the man's savagery. And not much scared her anymore.

_Poor choice of words. Just please come in and sit down._

She could do that.

Logan had settled in her usual seat, so she took the one on the other side. Logan spared her a wary glance, though he barely paused in his narration. The paperback seemed impossibly small in his broad, long-fingered hands.

Raven turned her attention to her brother. He looked more at peace than she had seen him since his return, almost like the Charles of her memories. He was still dreadfully thin, his skin translucent and stretched too tight over bone, but a little of the blush had returned to his cheeks and his lips were again the cherry-crimson the girls had always gone gaga over.

Only his eyes told the full story of his ordeal. Though as intensely blue as ever, pain and loss shone in their depths, and his unfocused gaze tore at her heart, a sharp reminder of what had been taken from him.

Those bastards were going to pay for that. 

But there would be time for that. For tonight, her brother was home and safe, and that was all that mattered.

She leaned back in the armchair, closed her eyes, and let herself drift as she listened to Logan's whiskey baritone.

**~xXx~**

Alex and Emma came through the door about an hour after dark. Erik was in the kitchen, snagging himself a beer, when he heard the front door open. He snagged two beers instead and headed for the foyer.

Alex was locking the door. His blond hair was rumpled, as were his clothes, and his blue eyes were weary.

Even Emma looked wilted, her trademark whites wrinkled and dusty. She scrunched her nose up at the beers. “I do hope you don't think I'm drinking that, sugar.”

Erik sighed. “I'm pretty sure there's some of your champagne in the kitchen.”

“Oh, now that's more like it,” she said, and she sashayed toward the kitchen.

Erik used his power to pop the bottlecaps off, offered one to Alex, who pressed the cold glass to his forehead for a moment, then took a long swallow. “Oh, man,” he said, “you always have the best beer.”

“I'm German,” Erik said, believing no other explanation necessary. “So how did it go?”

Alex took another long drink. “Smooth as a baby's ass. The intel was good; the recon went like glass. Emma mind-whammied the guards, we downloaded a shitload of records, and we were gone.” 

Erik nodded. 'I'll expect a full debrief in the morning. Go get some rest.” 

Alex shouldered his bag, downed the last of his beer. “Okay.” He started to turn, paused. “I miss anything while I was gone? The Jersey mission go okay?”

A loaded question. Alex was searching for his own brother. How would he react to the news of Charles' rescue?

Best just to come out with it. “We rescued three: two kids and Raven's brother.”

“That's fantastic.” A moment of elation, then a crash. “But no sign of Scott.”

Erik shook his head.

Alex looked like he wanted to punch something, but the moment passed as Erik watched. “I'm happy for her. Really. But it just reminds me my brother's not here.”

“We'll find him.”

“But what will be left of him when we find him?” His gaze met Erik's. “How's Charles doing, anyway?”

Erik glanced away.

“That bad, huh?”

“They were doing sensory deprivation experiments on him,” Erik said tightly. “They shut down his telepathy and his sight and hearing and paralyzed him from the shoulders down.”

“Holy shit.” Alex barely breathed the words. “Is it permanent?”

Erik closed his eyes, though that did nothing to blot out the image of haunted blue eyes. “His telepathy is back and getting stronger, and he's getting some feeling and motion back, but Hank thinks his sight and hearing are gone for good.”

“Fuck.” Alex looked at his empty beer bottle like he wished it were still full, and Erik wordlessly passed him his own untouched one.

Alex took a long drink, then said, “I need to talk to Raven. Any idea where she is?”

“With Charles, I expect. We set him up in one of the rooms near Hank's office.”

“I'll find it. Thanks, boss.” Alex strode off with purpose, fatigue forgotten.

Erik returned to the kitchen, retrieved another beer, then dropped into one of the kitchen chairs. Emma watched him silently, sipping her champagne. “Talk to me, sugar. I already know there's someone new here.”

Erik cocked a brow.

Emma laughed, a little sharply. “Relax, sugar, I haven't looked. But I can feel another mind.”

“We found Raven's brother.”

Emma's icy façade dropped for a moment, and Erik didn't have to be a telepath to know she was remembering her own rescue. “That's wonderful.”

Erik nodded faintly. 

Emma read Erik's reticence. “Oh, sweetie, what did they do to him?”

As Erik recounted the details, Emma's eyes grew flint-hard and angry. “That's barbarous. What they did to his senses is bad enough, but to take his telepathy on top of that--” Her lips thinned, then she took a gulp of champagne. “Imagine not being able to sense metal, any metal.”

Erik shuddered. He hadn't thought of it in those terms. 

“I'm amazed he's still sane. I wouldn't be. He must be damned strong.”

“I think he's the strongest man I've ever met.”

**~xXx~**

Charles had drifted off to sleep listening to Logan. Raven herself had nearly done so, but had roused when Logan had closed the book. He'd risen, nodded acknowledgement to her, and stalked out of the room, leaving her alone with Charles and her thoughts. 

He looked peaceful in his sleep, so much like he had been before. Despite Erik's encouraging words, she knew her brother as she'd known him was gone forever.

In his place was a virtual stranger, wounded in both body and spirit. She loved him no less, but she hardly knew him.

A soft knock at the open door drew her attention. “Alex! You're back.” She rushed to the blond man, hugged him.

“Just got in. Erik told me you found Charles, and I had to come see.”

Raven's eyes flicked back to her brother's still form. “You know what they did to him?”

Alex nodded, clenching his fists. “Erik told me. I've been in their hands, and it's still hard for me to believe they'd do that to another human being.”

“That's the problem,” Raven said, a razor's edge to her soft words. “They don't think of us as human.”

Alex grew silent, and Raven knew he was thinking of his own brother. She pressed her hand to his stubbly cheek. “We'll find Scott, and we'll get him through whatever they've done to him. He'll have you, and he'll have the rest of us.” She squeezed his cheek gently. “End of lecture. Go get some sleep.”

He started to turn, then paused. “Raven,” he said, “Thanks.” Another pause, then he added “And don't forget to take your own advice. We're all here for you.”

She allowed herself a small smile. “I know. Thanks.”

Now he did turn and go, leaving her alone with her thoughts. And her brother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up, Storm finally gets a scene of her own. Darwin and Janos return. Matt Murdock enters the picture. Matt and Darwin both teach Charles some useful things. Raven and Erik discover the mutant-testing project has ties that go higher and deeper within the government than they ever imagined...
> 
> Hmn, it looks like the next one will be long...


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charles meets Storm, who invites him to come down for dinner and meet the rest of the team. Erik brings Charles breakfast and offers to give him a shower. Lots of CharlesAngst!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies fot the delay. I'm juggling an insane number of stories, and this one is absolutely kicking my tail. Almost everything I thought would be in this chapter has been pushed into chapters eight and nine in favor of letting Charles and Erik spend time together...
> 
> As always, please feed(back) the author...

When Charles awoke, he sensed a presence he didn't recognize. _Hello?_

 _Hi. I'm Ororo. Most people call me Storm._ She had a light, unfamiliar accent.

_The one who made the pancakes._

_The same. I'm sorry I haven't been to meet you before this. I was taking care of the children._

_Children?_

_We rescued two children from the same place we found you._

_Good Lord. Are they all right?_

_They'll be okay. They'd only been there a few weeks, so those bastards hadn't gotten past assessing their powers. Still, they were understandably terrified._

_Were you able to find where they came from?_

_They were both wards of the state. But I found them a good home, with a couple who will love them, powers or no powers. We took them there yesterday._

_Good._

_Is there anything I can do for you?_

_Make more pancakes,_ Charles quipped. _No, seriously, I can always use people to sit with me. Raven is stretching herself far too thin, and I know Erik and Hank have work to do._

 _I can do that. I can even set up a schedule. Have you met Alex and Emma yet? What about Logan?_ He felt an unexpected burst of affection from her as she thought the wild man's name.

_Logan's been reading to me. I haven't met the other two yet._

_Darwin and Janos are supposed to be back this afternoon. Maybe you could come down for dinner, meet everyone then. It's my turn to cook._

_I'd like that._ He sensed another mind entering the room. _Erik._

 _Charles. Give me a moment._ He felt Erik speak to Storm. “There's some logistical data on my desk I'd like you to look at. If we can get a handle on their supply lines, maybe we can figure out who's funding these bastards.”

“Of course.” She gave Charles' shoulder a quick squeeze. _Good to finally meet you. See you at dinner._

 _Dinner? Did you just make a date with one of my senior lieutenants?_ Erik's tone was teasing, but with a sharp undercurrent.

_Nothing like that. She just suggested I come down for dinner so I can meet everyone._

_You sure you're up to that? So many minds at once?_

_I won't know unless I try._

_Fair enough._ Erik tucked a lock of Charles' hair behind his ear. _I made breakfast. Toast and eggs._

 _Hand me a slice of toast._ Charles willed his fingers to uncurl as much as they would, managed to close them on the toast Erik pressed against them, raised it to his face and took a bite.

It was marginally easier than the peach yesterday, but only marginally, and as elated as he felt yesterday, today he simply felt drained. Even though he rested his arm on his chest while he chewed, his muscles were burning and trembling by the time he was done. He let his arm flop back to his side. _Am I always going to be this weak?_ he wondered morosely, feeling the tears gathering in his sightless eyes. _Helpless? Useless? A burden on everyone, especially Raven?_

Erik's hand on his shoulder, a gentle squeeze, a gentle shake. _Stop that. Give yourself time. It's barely a week since we found you. Hank's going to start you on some physical therapy, so you should see more improvement soon._ A single tear had begun to trickle down Charles' cheek, and Erik brushed it away with his thumb. 

_Now eat. Your eggs are getting cold._ The spoon nudged Charles' lips, and he took a bite. They were indeed getting cold, the yolks starting to congeal, but they were still a thousand miles above what he'd existed on for the last five years.

When Erik finished feeding Charles, he asked, _Would you like a shower this morning?_

Charles all but purred in anticipation. _Do you have time? I know you've got work to do._

_I'll get it done. Besides, you deserve some of my time, too._

Charles knew he blushed, cursed his too-fair skin. _Then yes._

 _Give me a chance to get things ready. I'll be back._ The backs of Erik's fingers brushed Charles' cheek, then he was gone.

Erik returned a short while later. _All set._ He unbuttoned Charles' pajama top and slipped his arms free, then his hands went to Charles' waist and tugged at the pajama pants.

Erik lifted Charles from the bed, cradling him in those strong arms, carrying him securely against that muscular chest. He carried him into the _en suite_ bath, settled him on the shower chair, again brushed a lock of hair from Charles' face. _I should brush your hair. My mom always said you should brush your hair before you wash it, to get rid of the loose hairs. Give me a moment._ Erik squeezed his shoulder, then he was gone.

He returned a minute later, then began running a brush through Charles' hair, smooth and even strokes that teased the tangles out with a minimum of pain. Then when the brush slid freely, Erik ran his fingers through, fluffing it. _That's better. Give me a minute to get undressed and we can get started._

_Undressed?_

_No sense soaking my clothes._

Charles couldn't help but wonder if the rest of Erik's body was as spectacular as his chest and arms. Then he realized he hadn't even ever seen Erik's face. _It occurs to me I don't even know what you look like. Would you mind letting me have a look?_

Erik hesitated for only a moment. _All right. I'm in front of the mirror now._

Charles dove beneath the surface of Erik's mind, found his visual center, looked out through his eyes. At a full-length mirror. Erik was still wearing his jeans, more was the pity, but his chest was indeed spectacular, all chiseled muscle and tawny skin, and his waist above those dark-wash jeans was almost absurdly narrow.

 _I can hear you, you know._ Erik's tone was dryly amused.

Charles forced his attention up to Erik's face, which was also spectacular. Eyes the grey-blue of a stormswept sky. Sculpted jaw and cheekbones. Lips curving with just the hint of a smile. Small scar just above his lip. Military-short rust-brown hair stubbornly trying to curl.

_That's enough, Charles. I'll get a swelled head._

Charles couldn't resist dropping Erik's gaze to his crotch.

Erik chuckled, his cheeks reddening ever so slightly. _That's not what I meant._

Charles shoulders shook with silent laughter. _I so did not want to resist that._

_I ought to make you take a cold shower._

That drew a startled bark of laughter out of Charles' throat, and he tensed immediately.

Erik was there within seconds, enfolding him within a sheltering embrace, soothing away the seeds of panic before they could blossom. But the emotion that sprouted in their place was scarcely less ugly, and he began to weep, the tears flowing hot and free.

 _Charles. Charles._ Erik held him tight, pressed his cheek to Charles' forehead, stroked his hair, and that just made Charles cry harder, silent sobs shaking his wasted body.

_What's wrong, Charles? This isn't like last time. It's not just fear, is it? Tell me what's wrong. I can't help you if you won't talk to me. But I'm here for you. I've got you. You're safe now._

Charles could feel Erik's confusion and frustration, but he was helpless to answer, swept along by the torrent of emotion. He could only wait for the storm to blow itself out and could only hope Erik would do the same.

Erik's arms never left him, and the frantic litany of reassurances never wavered.

The adrenaline-fueled despair gradually yielded to a quieter sorrow, and Charles slumped against Erik's chest, drained both emotionally and physically.

_Talk to me, Charles. Please._

_I don't know if I can._

_Please. Tell me what happened._

_Then stop holding me. I don't think I can talk about it if you're holding me._

He could feel the spike in Erik's confusion, but the other man moved away. The loss of contact was like a physical blow, but it was necessary.

 _You were holding me,_ he began, _holding me like a frightened child. And I realized that's all anyone's ever going to see now. Something damaged. Something broken. Not a man any more. Who could ever look at me and see me, just me?_

Erik said nothing for a long time, almost too long. If Charles hadn't been able to still sense his presence, he would have thought Erik had left. And the response, when it came, was so quiet Charles almost thought he'd imagined it.

_Me._

_What?_

_Me. You asked who could see you for you, and I can. I wish you could see what I do, and I don't mean with these._ Erik's fingertips touched Charles' temple. _Few men could have survived what you have. Fewer still with their sanity intact. You are a man of rare strength, Charles Xavier, and anyone who can't see that is the one who is truly blind._

Tears welled in Charles' eyes again, but for an entirely different reason. _Thank you, my friend._

_Now how about that shower?_ Erik asked, his hand coming to rest on Charles' shoulder. 

_By all means._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> COMING ATTRACTIONS:
> 
> Chapter 8: Shower scene finale. Charles begins physical therapy. Charles meets the rest of the team, even Azazel.
> 
> Chapter 9: Charles meets Matt Murdock. Erik and Raven make an unsettling discovery.
> 
> Plus anything else that this author's overworked mind might come up with...


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik gives Charles a shower. They kiss, then they cuddle, then Hank begins Charles' first therapy session.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry I've been away from this for so long. I've had so many other things on my plate. I'd intended to put more in this chapter, but I decided to go ahead and post rather than keep folks waiting even longer...

Erik turned the water on to warm, his eyes never straying far from Charles. How could anyone not see what he saw, the man behind those haunted blue eyes, inside that frail shell of a body.

Objectively, he knew Charles looked rough. He was far too thin, his muscles wasted, his skin stretched over little more than bone. And those eyes that had sparkled with life in Raven's photographs were now empty and sightless. Yet Erik could see the man he had been, the man he could be again.

The Charles of five years ago had had an almost unearthly beauty, and some of it remained, fragile and brittle, shattered in places, but beginning to mend. The world might not be willing to look past the damage inflicted upon him, but Erik could. That beautiful, haunted face could melt Erik's heart.

And when Charles had teased him, staring straight at his crotch, it had been almost enough to make his cock spontaneously combust. Too bad the moment had been cut short by that panic attack.

No, he couldn't go there. Not now. Maybe not ever. Charles needed time to heal; he didn't need Erik throwing himself at him. Even if the attraction seemed mutual.

Erik shook himself from his reverie, picked up the shower head, and began wetting Charles down. The smaller man leaned into the spray, beaming, eyes closed tight.

Erik soaped Charles' hair, his beard, then the rest of his body. He knew when he dropped below the areas Charles could feel; the younger man's expression faded from contentment to silent waiting as Erik washed his cock, his thighs, his calves. 

Erik washed the soap away with the same gentle care. Charles balance wobbled as Erik leaned over him to rinse his back, and Charles' hand landed on Erik's hip, at first just to steady himself, but then his hand lingered, lingered and slid toward Erik's groin.

 _Charles?_ This couldn't be real. This was just the fantasy his overactive brain wouldn't let go of.

The hand jerked away, and Erik heard a jumbled torrent of thoughts. _Stupid. Stupid. Even Erik can't want you like this. Run. Hide. Can't. Can't. Can't. Trapped._

Erik dropped the shower head, not caring that the water sprayed in an arc out onto the floor. _Don't want you?_ And before he could talk himself out of it, Erik cupped Charles' jaw in his hands and kissed him.

It was a gentle kiss, tender and full of promise, and over too soon. He continued to cradle Charles' face in his hands, and Charles' hands came up to rest on his wrists.

Erik pressed his lips to Charles' cheek. _We'll need to talk about this, about where we go from here. But first I need to finish rinsing you off and get you out of here._

_All right._

Erik retrieved the shower head, finished washing away the soap, then towelled Charles off, pausing to press more kisses to his forehead, his shoulder, his palm. Then he carried Charles back to the bed. _We have a couple of hours before Hank is expecting us for your first therapy session._

_I like the sound of that._

_We need to take this really slow,_ Erik cautioned. _You're still recovering._

_Just hold me for a while._

_Okay._ Erik set Charles on the bed and arranged his legs carefully. Almost as an afterthought, he used his powers to lock the door, then he slid into bed next to Charles and wrapped an arm around the younger man's chest.

He rested his cheek against Charles' shoulder. _How's this?_

_Perfect._

**~xXx~**

It was with regret that, ninety minutes later, Erik rose to get the two of them dressed. He kissed Charles' cheek, then retrieved his jeans and t-shirt from the bathroom. He cringed a bit when he realized just how much water had sprayed about; he'd have to do some serious mopping up later.

He returned to the bedroom, pulled on his clothes, then found a sweatshirt and pants for Charles and returned to Charles' side. He was even more painfully aware of Charles' body now, the fragile beauty of it, the outrages of abuse it had suffered.

He placed a hand on Charles' ribcage, his fingers fitting into the grooves between too-prominent bones. _I wish I could have spared you this._

_Done is done, love. I'll gain the weight back, and the rest I'll learn to live with._

_Live with? Does this mean you're no longer considering suicide?_ Erik hoped the answer was yes.

_I think so. I'm still scared, and I'm horridly fucked-up, but I want to fight this. I don't want to let them win._

_I'm glad._ Erik bent and kissed Charles, soft and slow. His tongue flicked across Charles' lips, a silent question, and Charles' parted those lips, inviting him in. The kiss remained more sweet than hot, a gentle exploration, and it was with regret that Erik finally drew away. _We need to get moving. Hank's expecting us._

He slid the sweatpants on over Charles' feet and drew them up Charles frail legs to his upper thighs, then he lifted Charles' hips with one arm and tugged the pants the rest of the way on.

He pulled the sweatshirt over Charles' head, finger-combed the rumples out of his damp hair, then guided Charles' arms into the sleeves. As he pulled the shirt down into place, he stole a quick kiss, then he picked Charles up and moved him to the wheelchair.

**~xXx~**

Erik wanted him. Erik had kissed him. Charles still could barely believe it. Yet he had felt the other man's desire, undeniable even though tempered by his need to protect Charles. That protectiveness might in time prove maddening, but for now just being held by the man was a delight. He only wished it had gone on longer, but he knew he needed the therapy.

And he handled Charles with such care, lifted him effortlessly, secured him against that rock-solid chest, his arms so strong yet so tender as they settled Charles in the wheelchair.

 _We're setting up a therapy room,_ Erik explained as he pushed Charles down the hall. _Right now all we've got is a massage table, but Hank says that's all we need right now._

Erik stopped and lifted Charles onto the massage table. It was wide and padded yet firm. Erik brushed hair from his face then kissed him tenderly on the lips.

 _What the hell?_ Raven, sounding pissed.

_It's not what it looks like._

_Good. Because it looked like you were kissing my brother._

_Okay, so it was what it looked like._

_What the hell were you thinking? Or were you just using the brain between your legs?_

_Enough, Raven._ Charles still wasn't strong enough to command her will, but he could command her attention. _He's done nothing wrong. Or don't you trust me to know my own mind?_

She hesitated. 

_Raven._ He projected as much warning as he could. _Tread carefully._

_I'm just worried about you. I just got you back. Erik can be a grade-A asshole--_

_Hey!_

_and I don't want you to get hurt._

_I know, but it's not your decision._ He might have said more, but he sensed Hank's presence approaching.

_Sorry I'm late._ Even Hank's thought felt breathless. _I got lost in a medical journal._

Hank laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. _How are you feeling today?_

_Good._

Hank grasped his hands. _Squeeze. As hard as you can._

Charles did so, though it wasn't very hard. 

But Hank seemed pleased. _Better than yesterday._ He lifted Charles' sweatshirt and slid a hand down his side. _Any improvement in sensation?_

Charles shook his head. 

He felt a wave of concern from Hank. _As quickly as sensation returned to your upper body, it's troubling that your lower body remains insensate. Do you mind if I take a look at your back? I want to be sure I didn't miss anything._

_Of course._

_Erik, help me turn him over._

Gentle hands lifted him and rolled him onto his stomach. Hank pushed the sweatshirt up past Charles' shoulder blades, then slid his fingers down his spine. 

Hank's hand paused just above the zone where sensation diminished into nothingness. _There's a scar here, smaller than the ones on your head and neck._ He probed with a fingertip. _There's something there, no more than pea-sized, but not like the implants I removed. Erik, do you read any metal?_

A longish pause. _No metal. But there's an electromagnetic blank spot._

_Charles, I want to remove this. I suspect it's another implant._

_All right._

Hank went to make preparations, and Raven picked up where she'd left off. _When did this happen? And were you planning on telling me?_

_It only just happened,_ Charles said. _Maybe a few hours ago. And I would have told you once we sorted it out._

Raven seemed slightly mollified. _All right. I just want you to be happy._

_As do I,_ Erik said. 

Hank returned to inject a local anesthetic into Charles back, then he left again to give it time to work.

Raven and Erik both pulled up chairs to stay with him. Raven took his left hand, then rested her head on his forearm, her silky hair a curtain over his arm and shoulder.

Erik took his right hand, enfolded it in his own, then lightly stroked Charles' cheek. They all sat in silence until Hank returned with a tray of the instruments he needed.

Erik and Raven continued to hold his hands as Hank began his work. Charles could feel nothing but occasional vague pressure, but Hank gave him a running description of what he was doing.

He'd parted the skin and soft tissue and was probing deeper when he exclaimed, _Fuck me!_

 _I'd rather not._ Erik, of course.

_This is like no neural implant I've seen. The base is maybe the size of a mushed pea, but then there are hundreds, maybe thousands of filaments that appear to have penetrated your spine. Even if I remove the implant itself, I believe the filaments have wound themselves into your spinal cord. Permanent damage is almost certain if I try to pull them free._

Charles slumped against the massage table. Yet one more thing lost to him forever. He barely heard Hank at first, too absorbed in his own misery. _I'm going to take samples and see if I can find a way to dissolve them._

Hope. A ray of hope. He smiled faintly as Erik and Raven continued to hold his hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comnents always appreciated...


	9. Chapter 9

Hank stitched and bandaged the small incision he'd made, then said it would be best to hold off on the bulk of the physical therapy for a few days. _Massage is good. And some gentle stretching of the arms and hands. But we need to hold off on anything that might put stress on that incision._

Erik could see the frustration and disappointment on Charles' expressive face, and he squeezed the younger man's shoulder. _It's just a temporary setback._

Charles' shoulders shook, and Erik knew he was on the verge of crying. _They took everything from me. I spent five years in limbo, and I need to take back what I can. Now._

_You've already started. You're alive. Your telepathy is back and getting stronger. You've got feeling and a little motion in your upper body, and that will get even better._

_And I'm still fucking blind and deaf, still trapped in this body. Still alone._

_You're not alone, not anymore. You've got Raven. You've got everyone in this household._ He bent and brushed his lips across Charles'. _You've got me._

_Could you take me outside? I really need to feel the sun on my face._

Erik glanced out the window at the gathering clouds. _Except I think it's going to rain soon._

_Then we'd better hurry._

Erik smiled, maneuvered Charles to a sitting position, and lifted him, cradling the younger man's frail body against his chest, rhen set him in the wheelchair.

They stopped briefly in the kitchen, where Erik grabbed a pair of chocolate-chip cookies, then he wheeled Charles outside. The storm was still distant, low on the horizon, and Erik estimated they had as much as an hour before they needed to worry.

 _Where to?_ he asked as they exited the mansion.

_I want to smell the roses._

Erik wheeled Charles around to the rose hedge and stopped by a stone bench. _How's this?_

Charles inhaled, then grinned. _Lovely. Could I look for a moment?_

 _Of course._ Erik felt Charles go deeper in his mind.

_Let me see the storm._

Erik turned to face the advancing wall of clouds.

Charles watched the roiling grey mass for a minute then withdrew to the surface of Erik's mind. _Thank you._

 _Always._ Erik brushed his thumb across Charles' cheek. _I brought cookies._

_What kind?_

_Chocolate chip with pecans, from the bakery in town._

_Ooh, let me have one._

Erik opened the paper-towel-wrapped bundle. _In your hand, or do you want me to feed you?_

Charles considered. _Feed me. I want to lick the chocolate off your fingers._

Erik liked the sound of that. He took one of the cookies and held it to Charles' lips.

Charles took a bite, chewed slowly as his face lit with pleasure. His eyes were half-closed; his cherry lips, curved in a soft smile. He ate both cookies, then, as promised, he sucked the chocolate off Erik's fingertips.

Erik trailed a line of kisses along Charles' jawline.

Charles shuddered.

Erik kissed those ruby lips, drinking them in. Charles tongue flicked against his lips, seeking entrance. He tasted of chocolate and brown sugar and himself, and it made Erik crave more.

The rational part of Erik's brain told him to slow down, though his libido had other ideas. Reluctantly, he pulled back but continued to cup Charles' head in his hands. _We need to take this slow,_ he said. _I don't want to hurt you, and Hank will disembowel me if we tear those stitches._

Charles sighed, a near-silent exhalation, and placed his hands on Erik's forearms. _Could you at least hold me for a while._

Erik kissed him again, brief and gentle. _Of course._ He lifted Charles from the wheelchair, cradled him in his arms as he took a seat on the bench. _How's this?_

Charles snuggled into his arms. _Perfect._ One frail hand found Erik's jaw and traced along it, then found his lips.

Erik caught Charles' index finger, nibbled at it for just a moment.

Charled laughed, a short, breathy sound choked off before it completed.

Erik held Charles close. _You're safe, Charles. No one's going to hurt you._ He knew Charles wouldn't overcome the conditioned response easily, but he'd be with him until he could. _Make all the sound you want. I won't let anyone hurt you._

Erik felt Charles tense, then the younger man lifted his head as if looking at him. “Thank you,” he said, voice rusty from disuse.

Erik kissed him, just a soft brush of lips against lips. Charles remained tensed for another minute against the pain he'd been conditioned to expect, then he relaxed into Erik's embrace.

Erik kissed him again, tender at first, then turning steamy. Erik was about to forget his own admonition to go slow, but a cold drop of rain landed on the back of his neck and jerked him back to awareness. He broke the kiss, projecting _Rain._

_I don't mind getting a little wet._

_A little wet, no. A lot wet, yes._ He pushed an image of the storm at Charles.

_Oh._

He stood carefully, returned Charles to the wheelchair, then hurried toward the mansion. Still, they were dripping by the time they reached the door.

He wheeled Charles to his bedroom, then retrieved a stack of towels from the bathroom. He peeled off his own wet clothes, then removed Charles' soaked sweats. His fingers brushed the bandage on Charles' lower back, and he knew he'd need to change it for a dry one.

He towelled Charles off, carried him to the bed, covered him with a light blanket. _I'll be right back. I need to change that bandage._

_Okay._

Erik wrapped a towel around his own waist and slipped out into the hall, hoping no one would see him. He stopped at his own room first, changed into dry clothes, then entered Hank's domain to get fresh gauze and tape. He could hear Hank in his lab, no doubt busy analyzing the filaments from Charles' spine. He'd probably forget to eat -- Erik made a note to himself to roust Hank for dinner.

He returned to Charles' room, found the other man relaxed and on the verge of sleep. _I'm back,_ he projected as he touched Charles' shoulder.

Charles turned his face toward Erik, beaming. _Lie with me for a while._

 _Let me change that bandage first._ Erik pulled back the blanket, and peeled away the soggy bandage. He blotted away the moisture, making sure Charles' skin was thoroughly dry before he applied fresh gauze.

Then he stripped of his clothes and snuggled up against Charles.

_Nice._

Erik couldn't disagree.

**~xXx~**

They cuddled for much of the afternoon. Charles slept for part of it, and Erik was content to hold him and watch him and listen to the falling rain.

Raven came in after a while, looking a little disapproving when she found the two of them together in bed. “Armando and Janos are back,” she said. “I thought you'd want to debrief them.”

“You thought right.” He cast a regretful look at Charles, then eased his arm out from under Charles' head. Charles frowned in his sleep but didn't wakr, not even when Erik kissed his temple. “You'll stay with him?” he asked Raven.

“Of course,” she said.

“I'll be back to help get him ready for dinner.”

“Dinner?”

“Storm's idea. Charles wants to meet everyone.”

“It'll be too much for him.”

Maybe. Probably. But it's his call to make.” Erik sat up. “Step out for a moment while I get dressed.”

Raven's blue skin flushed purple as she realized the implications of his words. She turned and hurried out without another word.

Erik brushed a kiss across Charles' lips then got up and got dressed.

It turned out there hadn't been much for Armando and Janos to find in Texas. The facility had been shut down for at least a few weeks, maybe longer. There'd been evidence the site had indeed been used for both imprisonment and experimentation, but they'd found nothing to indicate who had been responsible or where they'd gone.

“These bastards are too damned good,” Erik muttered. “They're always one step ahead of us.”

“We'll get 'em, boss,” Armando said. “They'll make a mistake eventually.”

Janos nodded his agreement. He rarely spoke, and Erik wondered whether he'd once been subjected to the same kind of conditioning as Charles.

“But how many of us will be tortured or killed in the meantime?” Erik demanded. “You haven't seen what they did to Raven's brother yet. He's blind, he's deaf, he's paralyzed--”

Armando cocked his head, studying Erik. “You're worked up about this, even for you.”

“You'll understand once you meet him. Even as damaged as he is, there's a strength about him few could match. He'll be at dinner tonight if you want to meet him.”

Armando considered. “Much as I want a hot shower and a long nap, I want food more. I'll be down.” Janos nodded agreement, and the pair left.

Erik went back to Charles' room. He was sitting up now, his azure eyes bright and alert though unfocused. Raven sat by his bed, held his hand in both of hers. She met Erik's gaze, nodded at him, her lips quirking with a hint of a smile. “You're good for him,” she acknowledged. “I can see that. Just don't hurt him.”

“I wouldn't dream of it.”

 _Erik._ Charles' mind brushed his.

_Time to get ready for dinner._

A burst of excitement from Charles. _Raven,_ he asked, _do you think you could find me some real clothes?_

Raven chuckled. _You've always been a little vain, big brother. But I know where your old clothes are. I brought all of your stuff here. Just give me a few minutes._ She rose and exited, a woman on a mission.

Erik slid into her seat, took Charles' hand.

_I was a little disappointed you were gone when I woke up._

_I know. I didn't eant to leave, but I needed--_

_To talk to Darwin and Janos. Raven told me._

They sat together, hand in hand, saying nothing more, needing to say nothing more, until Raven returned with a small pile of clothing. _Most of your shirts need ironing, so I brought a long-sleeved t-shirt and jeans._

_Sounds all right. It'll be nice to wear something other than sweats._

Working as a team, Erik and Raven got the clothes on quickly. They hung loosely on his too-thin frame, but the soft blue hues highlighted the vivid color of his eyes and contrasted nicely with those crimson lips. He remained frail and wan, but he was better than he had been, and Erik knew he would continue to improve.

Erik lifted Charles, set him in the wheelchair, stole a kiss.

Raven looked away.

Everyone else had already gathered in the dining room. Storm's meals were always a draw, but Erik knew the crowd had as much to do with Charles as the food. Three places had been left at the end of the table, and one chair had been removed. Erik parked Charles' wheelchair in the empty space and took the seat to his right. “Everyone, I'd like you to meet Raven's brother, Charles,” he announced. “I know you all know about what happened to him, know he can't see or hear but that he's a telepath. I'm going to go around the table and introduce you one at a time -- his telepathy isn't back to full strength yet, so we don't want to overwhelm him.”

He took Charles' hand. _Ready?_

_Yes._

Emma was beside Raven, so he started with her. _Charles, this is Emma Frost._

_A pleasure, sweetie. Always nice to meet a fellow telepath. And we're gonna get the bastards that did this to you._

_Alex Summers is next to her._

_Hi._

_You know Logan._

_Hey, kid._

_Storm's sitting next to him, but she's still in the kitchen. Then Azazel's at the end._

_Да. Здесь._

Charles winced as his mind brushed the demon's.

_Then Janos Quested._

_Si._

_And last is Armando Muñoz, aka Darwin._

_Hey, man._

Storm came out of the kitchen with a large serving bowl full of stew. “Eat up,” she said. “There's plenty more.” She handed the bowl to Erik, who served Charles, then himself.

Charles' telepathy wasn't strong enough yet to hold contact with everyone, so Erik and Raven, and after a few minutes, Emma, relayed the conversation. Erik was a little surprised by how quickly the usually aloof Emma bonded with Charles.

 _It's a telepath thing, sugar,_ she explained. _No one else really gets what it's like._

They all demolished the stew and the cake Storm brought out for dessert. By then, Charles was looking both tired and stressed, and he nodded wearily when Erik suggested he might need to go back to his room.

He was a bit clumsy when he broadcast a thank you and good night to everyone. Logan and Emma winced, but everyone else just gritted their teeth as they projected their answers.

As they made their way back to Charles' room, he leaned his head back against Erik's stomach. _Would you stay with me tonight?_

Erik squeezed the younger man's shoulder. _Of course._


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raven makes a discovery...

Charles was barely awake when Erik kissed him and told him he'd be back soon. _Raven's found something in those files, something she says can't wait._

 _'Kay,_ Charles mumbled.

 _I'll send someone up with breakfast,_ Erik promised, then he kissed Charles again and climbed out of bed.

A few minutes later, but before the anxiety kicked in, Charles felt the approach of a mostly-unfamiliar mind. _Armando?_

_Call me Darwin. I hope you're hungry. I'm not as good a cook as Storm, but I do okay. I've got scrambled eggs with salsa, toast, some mixed berries, and milk._

_Sounds wonderful._ And it was The eggs were a little spicy, but the cold milk and the sweet berries offset the heat nicely. Darwin was a little awkward feeding him at first, but he learned quickly.

Once Charles was done, Darwin asked, _Do you like crossword puzzles?_

_Only The New York Times'._

_That's what I've got. What days?_

_Thursdays and Sundays -- tricky but not fiendish. Fridays make me sweat, and Saturdays are just evil._

_Then we'll have to sweat together. This is last Friday's._

Darwin read off the clues and the word lengths, and they filled in the grid. Charles had forgotten just how sneaky the wordplay in the clues could be, and many of the answers had then laughing or groaning once they figured them out.

_Almost done. We just need “Dirty cop” question mark, five letters, “rr” third and fourth._

Charles shook his head and smiled. _Harry. Dirty Harry._

_Oh, man,they did not. They did not._

But they had.

Darwin's thoughts grew more serious. _Can I ask you something. man?_

_I don't guarantee I'll answer._

_Nothing like that. I was just wondering if you'd like to learn sign. In case you were ever in a situation where you couldn't use your telepathy_

_You know sign?_

_Some. My sister-in-law is deaf._

But Charles recognized a flaw in this plan. _I wouldn't be able to see the responses._

_There's gotta be a way. I'll ask Ana. But in the meantime, one-way communication is better than none._

True enough. _Okay._

_Let's start with the alphabet._ He folded Charles' fingers over. _This is A._

Charles didn't have the strength or the stamina for more than a run-through of the alphabet, but it was a start. 

__

~xXx~ 

“What have you got for me?” Erik strode into Raven's office, coffee in one hand, a slice of toast in the other.

Raven looked up from her computer.

“Solid leads on two more facilities, and,” she gave him a slow smile, “maybe our first real clue as to who's behind this, the ones at the top of the food chain.”

Finally. Erik had been hunting these bastards for a decade, though for much of that time he hadn't had Raven, and even once he'd had jet, it had taken time for her to develop into an elite hacker. “What was their mistake?”

“One of their chief scientists kept a journal. It's written in a cipher, but I think I can crack it.”

Erik smiled. “Good work. Now tell me about those facilities.”

“One's in Oregon, looks like a small 'research' facility. Worth a closer look, at least. The other, at least from what I've pieced together so far, looks major. It's up in Canada, a place called Alkali Lake.”

“Really good work.”

She handed him two files, one marked Oregon, the other, Alkali Lake. “What I've found so far.”

“I'll look them over. Maybe we can finally nail these bastards now. For Charles. For everyone else.”

Raven looked pensive. “How's Charles this morning?”

“He was barely awake. Darwin said he'd take him breakfast.”

Raven nodded, sighed. “I got so excited when I realized what I had. Now I see no matter what happens, we can't undo what was done to him.”

“I know. The best we can do is give him a measure of justice and put these bastards out of business for good.”

“But is that enough?”

An image of haunted blue eyes in a gaunt face flashed into Erik's mind. “It has to be.”

Once Erik left Raven, he headed back to the kitchen, hoping for breakfast leftovers. He was in luck. A decent-sized portion of eggs sat in a serving bowl, and a smaller bowl held a bit of mixed fruit. He retrieved a box of cereal from a cupboard, dumped some atop the fruit, added milk, then microwaved the eggs for a few seconds to warm them.

He took both bowls back to the table, poured himself a fresh cup of coffee, and settled down to eat and study Raven's files.

He was still there when Emma came to take her turn at fixing lunch. She wasn't really a cook, but she could do sandwiches, and she made a mean BLT.

“Is it that late already?” he asked.

Emma nodded. “Charles is wondering where you are. His mind brushed mine as I was coming down.”

Erik scrambled to his feet, gathered his dirty dishes and shoved them in the dishwasher, then grabbed his files.

“Oh, you've got it bad, sugar.”

That he did. That he did. He snagged two bottles of water from the fridge and went to find Charles.

He felt the brush of Charles' mind as he entered his room. _There you are._ Charles' mind in his head was like a warm caress.

_Sorry. I got wrapped up on the files Raven gave me._

_You're here now._

Erik closed the distance between them, kissed Charles, slow and sweet. _They may have finally made a mistake, the men who had you. I know it won't undo what was done to you--_

 _They should still pay,_ Charles declared. _And you need to make sure they don't do it to anyone else._

_I will. We all will._

Charles smiled. _Good. Now tell me what you know._

Erik sat in the chair to Charles' left, folded Charles' hand into both of his, and detailed what he'd learned from both Raven and the files.

He was just finishing when he felt the touch of Emma's mind. _Lunch is ready._

 _Would you like to go down for lunch?_ he asked Charles.

Charles beamed. _Yes._

Erik lifted Charles, set him im the wheelchair, stole a quick kiss.

Lunch wasn't as much of a communal activity; only Emma, Alex, Storm, and Logan were there around the large kitchen table. Emma had made turkey clubs, which differed from her famous BLT's only in the addition of turkey.

At Charles' request, Erik let him attack his sandwich unaided.

Charles' hand ghosted across the table, found his plate and then his sandwich. He took one of the halves in both hands and lifted it to his mouth.

He grinned after his first bite. _Delicious._

_Thank you, sugar._

For a few minutes, Charles managed to stay in contact with all of their minds well enough to participate in the lunchtime conversation, but Erik could see his hands shaking, feel his control slipping, as he finished the first half of the sandwich.

 _Sorry. I can't anymore._ Charles withdrew from every mind but Erik's.

Erik picked up the other sandwich half and held it to Charles' lips. Charles flashed him a grateful smile, then took a bite.

Charles would undoubtedly need to rest after lunch, but that was okay.. Erik would sit with him and study the intel Raven had given him. A mission plan for Oregon was already taking shape in his mind. A simple recon mission, two or three team members -- he liked to pair offensive and defensive powers when he could. He'd call a planning meeting tomorrow.

Until then, he'd watch over Charles.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik and Emma spend time with Charles. Raven talks with Hank. Matt Murdock finally makes an appearance.

By the time lunch was over, Charles felt drained and weary, yet he was reluctant to sleep. During the interminable span of his imprisonment, sleep had been the only escape from his terrifying isolation, from the hands that would come from nowhere to shake and shove and slap, from soul-numbing solitude, from the certainty that he would die alone. So now he wanted to savor every waking moment, to revel in every fragment of returned sensation and movement, to celebrate every small step in reclaiming his life.

Yet his body remained weak, wasted, fragile. And while he knew the damage of years could not be undone in mere days, he still chafed at his limits now that something more was so tantalizingly close.

Erik wheeled him back to his suite, settled him on his side on the bed, ruffled his hair, kissed his temple as if saying goodbye.

_Stay._ Charles urged, his fear spiking.

_I planned on it._ Erik kissed his temple again. After a minute, the bed dipped and Erik scooted close. His thumb traced along Charles' eyebrow then down his cheek. _You're beautiful._

_Hardly._

_No. You are._ He kissed Charles, slow and deep. _Let me show you._ He pushed an image at Charles, Charles' face as Erik saw him.

To Charles, he looked dreadful, pale and emaciated, hair and beard still far too long, his eyes empty and unfocused, the jarring reminder of all he'd lost. To Erik, though, none of that mattered. Erik was both willing and able to look past the damage, see what had been, see what might be again. To Erik, those sightless eyes bored into his very soul, stuck chords that none had ever struck.

_You should have been a poet._

_Doesn't pay the bills._

Charles rested his head against Erik's shoulder. _In any case, I'm glad you do what you do. I'd still be trapped in that hell if it wasn't for you._

Erik held him a little closer. _I still wish we could have found you sooner._

_I'm here now, and I'm mending. I never would have imagined, lying there alone in my head, that my life would ever be worth living again. You gave me hope. I'm still scared as hell, but I'm ready to fight._ Charles hand found its way to Erik's shoulder, squeezed weakly.

_You're not alone anymore, Charles. You'll never have to be alone again. I'll make sure of that._ Erik's lips brushed over his. _Now get some rest._

**~xXx~**

Raven descended the stairs to the basement level where Hank had his main research lab, her laptop under one arm, a bag with club sandwiches, chips, and drinks in the opposite hand. She knew Hank had forgotten to come up for dinner last night, probably hadn't slept, hadn't emerged at all today. The man got way too immersed in his work for his own good.

Sure enough, he was hunched over a microscope when she entered. “Hank,” she said quietly, “I brought you food.”

He looked up, startled, blue eyes widening. She knew him well enough to see the vague glassiness of sleep-deprivation in their depths. “Raven” He smiled affectionately, but she saw the hint of impatience at being interrupted. “What time is it?”

“Three Tuesday afternoon. You've been working almost twenty-four hours straight.”

He blinked, pushed his glasses up his nose. “Really?”

“Yeah.” She set her laptop on a small empty spot on one table, set the bag beside it. “So even if I can't persuade you to stop and sleep, I'm going to make sure you eat.” She opened up the sack, removed a paper-towel-wrapped sandwich.

He took it, fingers brushing lightly against hers. “Thanks.”

“Somebody has to look after you.” She cleared space on another table, ignoring Hank's wince as she manhandled his papers, took her share of the food, then hopped up on the newly-cleared table. “There's another sandwich, some chips, and a Dr. Pepper in the bag for you.”

He nodded, mouth already full.

They ate in silence for a few minutes, Hank finishing well before she did. “I guess you really were hungry,” she said. “What did you get so wrapped up in? The filaments from Charles' back?”

Hank nodded again. “They're some sort of polymer, like nothing I've ever seen. Really fascinating.”

Raven grimaced, lacking Hank's scientific detachment. “So do you think you can dissolve them?”

“Probably.” But his expression was far less confident. “The tricky part will be finding a substance that will dissolve the filaments without damaging the surrounding tissue.”

Her brother's spinal cord. Her voice wanted to shake as she asked, “And if you can? Will Charles be able to walk again?”

Hank's expression was hardly encouraging. “Possibly. The filaments likely did damage upon entry, and even if the damage is minimal, it'll take months and months of therapy to rebuild the strength in his legs.”

Raven sighed. “I just hate seeing him this way.”

“I know.” Hank said nothing more, giving her space to continue if she wanted but not pushing if she didn't. One of the things she loved about him.

“I'm mostly not even talking about what they did to him physically, though I think there's a special place in hell for the people who would do that to another human being. I'm talking about how they fucked with his head.”

Hank remained silent, sipping his soda as he watched her.

“They tortured him, made him afraid to speak, afraid to even make a sound. I'm surprised they didn't burn out his vocal cords like they did everything else. Probably thought it was more fun to beat the shit out of him.” Tears welled in her eyes, born of both rage and sorrow, and she dashed them away. “They locked him in his mind with no way to communicate, left him alone, utterly alone. It's no wonder he panics when he's left alone.”

Now Hank did speak. “Your brother is stronger than you realize. Most people subjected to extreme sensory deprivation break down within days, or even hours. Charles survived years. Yes, he hasn't survived unscathed, but the mind has an amazing capacity for healing, given time.”

Raven smiled in spite of herself. “Is that geek-speak for 'be patient?'”

Hank blushed a little. “I guess.”

“I'll try. It's not my strongest suit.”

“Good. Now how about letting me get back to work?”

“You need to sleep.”

Hank rolled his eyes.

“You do, and you know it.”

“And I'll get some, after I finish this test.”

“I'll hold you to that.” Raven slid off the table and grabbed her laptop. “I'll wait for you to finish.”

Hank rolled his eyes again, but his lips curved into a soft smile.

**~xXx~**

Charles slept soundly, contentedly. Erik, however, grew restless after about an hour. He'd never been patient, and as much as he loved curling up with Charles, he still chafed at the inactivity.

Yet he wouldn't just leave Charles alone; the one time they;d tried that, he'd returned to find Charles on the verge of a panic attack. Too bad Erik wasn't the telepath; then he could summon help without ever leaving Charles' arms.

But maybe he could call a telepath. He'd never tried it, never wanted to, never needed to. He concentrated, pushed a thought outward. _Emma._

_You rang, sugar?_ Annoyed.

_Yes. I need your help._

_With what?_

He could feel her suspicion. Was he really that bad?

_Yes._

_I need someone to sit with Charles while I get a little work done._

_I was just about to do my nails._

_Do them down here._

_I don't know._

_I'll throw in a bottle of champagne._

_The good stuff?_

Erik sighed. Emma had expensive tastes. _Nothing under a hundred dollars._

_Good enough, sugar. I'll be down in a few minutes._

Perfect. In the meantime, he'd stay wrapped around Charles.

_Now that's something I'd like to see._

_Fuck you, Emma._

She laughed and cut the connection.

Erik turned his attention back to Charles.

**~xXx~**

Emma had been surprised when Erik called for her. And a bit irritated. The man had poked at her mind with all the subtlety of a baseball bat. But when he'd told her what he wanted, she'd known she'd say yes. She'd just played hard to get just to see what he'd offer. And he'd offered big time. He'd set a hundred-dollar minimum; she wondered how far she could push him on the maximum. It wasn't as if they were hurting for money – Lehnsherr Security was quite profitable, and the always had the Xavier trust to fall back on, no matter how much Erik resisted the idea.

She assembled her polishes and tools, packed them into a makeup case, made her way downstairs. She hadn't actually known where Charles was staying, but the location had been clear in Erik's mind.

She knocked, opened the door just as Erik said, “Come.”

“My, isn't this domestic.”

Charles and Erik lay cuddled together on the bed, still (unfortunately) fully clothed.

“Fuck off, Emma.”

“Be nice, or I won't stay.”

That shut Erik up. He eased himself to a sitting position, trying not to disturb Charles, who frowned in his sleep.

“What do I need to do?” It had better not be anything that would mess up her manicure.

“Stay here. If he wakes up, talk to him.”

She could do that.

“I'll be back before dinner. Do you know who's cooking?”

“Janos.” One of their better cooks.

Erik looked relieved. “Good. If it was Alex, we'd probably wind up having to order pizza.”

Alex did tend to burn things. Including food.

Erik gathered some folders off his nightstand, gave Charles a last lingering look, then strode out.

Emma settled herself at a small table and began organizing her polishes, deciding which best suited her mood. Pearl frost, of course, but which one? She had seventeen separate shades of pearl frost, no two alike. Some were silvery, two had the barest of pink undertones, one was a pure white with fine flecks of white glitter, one was iridescent. That. That was the one she wanted today. She was in the mood for extra sparkle, plus she just loved the name – Aurora Borealis.

 

Decision made, she began removing her old polish, humming softly.

She'd reached the boring part, sitting with her hands flat, palms-down on the chair arms, when Charles finally stirred. _Erik?_

_He'll be back soon, sweetie._

_Emma._

_One and the same._

_Could you help me sit up?_

Damn. So much for her manicure.

_I can wait._

It was a measure of just how far Charles had gotten under her skin that she said, _Don't be ridiculous, sweetie. It's just a manicure._

She went to his bedside but wasn't exactly sure what to do. Finally she wrapped an arm around his shoulders and lifted him. It wasn't the most graceful, but it got the job done. She piled pillows behind his back, leaned him against them. _How's that?_

_Good._

She surveyed the damage. Two nails hopelessly wrinkled, three more with sheet prints. C'est la vie. She sat in one of the armchairs beside Charles' heavenly-looking bed – she really needed to talk to Erik about upgrading hers – and asked, _You've met everyone, haven't you?_

_I think so._

_Good. Because I've got some stories to tell._

**~xXx~**

Erik intended to attack his mountainous backlog of paperwork and start jotting plans for their next missions, but he realized he needed to make a phone call first, before he forgot about it again.

He pulled out his phone, found the listing for “Matt,” dialled.

“Nelson and Murdock, Attorneys at Law. This is Karen. How may I direct your call.”

“Hey, Karen, it's Erik Lehnsherr. Is Matt in?”

“He is. I'll put you through.”

Two rings, then Matt's quiet baritone. “Matt Murdock.”

“Hey, Matt. Erik Lehnsherr.”

“Erik.” Matt's voice warmed. They'd been friends a number of years, knew each other's secrets. “What's up?”

“I've got a bit of a situation here.”

“Involving your sideline?”

“Yes and no.”

“Cryptic today, are we?”

Erik sighed. “Did you ever meet my associate, Raven Darkholme?”

“The hacker with the sexy voice?”

Erik had never thought about her voice being sexy, but whatever. “Yeah. She joined my team after her brother went missing. And we just got him back.”

“Do they want to file a lawsuit against the folks that took him? 'Cause I'm not seeing what this has to do with me.”

“I need advice of a different sort this time,” Erik said quietly. “What they did left him blind, Matt. And deaf.”

Matt didn't hesitate. “What do you need?”

“I really don't know. We've been muddling along, but none of us really knows what we're doing.”

“Give me the details. I'll see what I can figure out.”


End file.
